


step out into the sun and accept your brand new life

by PurpleCatGhost



Series: Existential Existence [3]
Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, The Void
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleCatGhost/pseuds/PurpleCatGhost
Summary: Dr. Harold Coomer was prepared for there to be nothing at the end of the tunnel. Then he wakes up with almost everything he's ever wanted. It's not as comforting as he would've hoped.But at the very least, he has Bubby with him.
Relationships: Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Everyone & Everyone
Series: Existential Existence [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744276
Comments: 67
Kudos: 411





	step out into the sun and accept your brand new life

**Author's Note:**

> I will never stop laughing that their ship name is Boomer
> 
> Also this likely won't make much sense unless you read the other two fics- or at least the first one- but like I can't stop you so enjoy either way!

Dr. Harold Coomer sometimes likes to create mental lists in order to understand something better. For this particular situation he’s in, he creates a timeline.

One, the event that triggers the end of the game had to occur- that was beating the final boss. In this case, it was Benrey and Dr. Coomer is certain that he’s gone. He felt it, the sudden shift in his reality. It almost felt like a goodbye from the world itself.

Two, time is running out. Dr. Coomer sits at Chuck E Cheese, fully aware that these are his last moments. He makes the most of them, eating pizza while he can enjoy it, playing on some of the arcade games, and getting some closure. He talks with Gordon and Tommy- making sure to have a good, potentially last conversation with both of them. Bubby will be last. Dr. Coomer thinks about their missing party member more than he would like. Coomer can’t help but think about how he never got to say goodbye. He didn’t know him well, but a goodbye would’ve been nice. Can’t be helped, however. He has to move on.

Three, he’s talking to Bubby. Dr. Coomer smiles fondly as Bubby describes how for a moment in the final battle, he achieved his true power. Dr. Coomer had seen it of course- it was unlike anything he had ever witnessed. Bubby was built to be the perfect life form and Coomer was reminded of it every day. The man really _was_ something… His heart swells with pride, as well as something else.

Four, something catches his eye as Bubby is talking. Behind Bubby, an approaching darkness begins to overrun the place. Gordon is the first one to be consumed by it and he can do nothing but watch. Deep in his chest, he knows their time is up. He must’ve looked distressed because Bubby stops talking and asks him what’s wrong. Bubby turns to face the void slowly approaching them but Dr. Coomer grabs his face and positions it so he can only look at him. He can’t see what’s about to engulf them, he only sees Dr. Coomer.

Five, Coomer tells Bubby that he will forever cherish their time together. That of all the people to spend his final days with, he’s glad it was him. Bubby asks him why he sounds like he’s saying his last words. Coomer smiles sadly. 

Six, Dr. Coomer says, “I love you.”

Seven, the void takes Bubby right out of his hands. Dr. Coomer knows he’s not too far behind. The last thing he sees is Bubby’s face, full of shock, and the last thing he hears is Tommy yelling frantically. 

Eight, the world melts away from under him and Dr. Coomer falls. He knows that in the void, his time is almost up, but he still has a few precious minutes left. Dr. Coomer uses whatever energy and power he has to send a message- one he hopes will get in the right hands. One that might save him. 

Nine, Dr. Coomer allows himself to let go. _This is okay._ He tells himself. _I’ve had a good life. I can rest now and be satisfied. I don’t need to fight._ He closes his eyes and feels himself get ripped apart again, possibly for the last time. 

Ten, Dr. Coomer wakes up in an apartment.

_...Hm._ Dr. Coomer frowns to himself. _It still doesn’t make sense._

Coomer does another sweep of the apartment. He’s poked around the place- honestly it’s a dream come true- but Coomer looks around and it all feels _wrong._ The game should be ended, he should be nothing but atoms- none of this should _be_ here. 

Yet, here he is. Coomer isn’t sure where ‘Here’ is but… It’s strangely pleasant.

His curiosity gets the better of him. Coomer _needs_ to know what’s going on.

Coomer pushes open the door of the apartment- making a mental note of where it was so he doesn’t get lost- and into the rest of the building. He learns he’s on the third floor, that he has _neighbors_ who are people he has never met and somehow, they all recognize him and think he’s been living there for quite some time.

Eventually, Dr. Coomer finds himself outside, and loses his breath.

The sun shines down on him, warming his skin in a calming manner. Buildings upon buildings of all sorts- restaurants, businesses, shops- they surround him. People carry on with their lives, walking their dogs or chatting on the phone or with each other like nothing is new. Like everything around them is natural and mundane and not a _miracle_ come to life. 

Dr. Coomer stands in the middle of a city he’s never seen before and feels more real than ever. There’s no code telling him he needs to do something, no impending danger that surrounds him, no block in his mind preventing him from doing something.

The ground beneath his feet is solid. The air he breathes is clear and makes him feel alive. As far as reality is concerned, Dr. Coomer is _alive._

_“Oh.”_ His voice is small and on the verge of shattering. Coomer covers his mouth as his vision blurs. 

Someone on the street notices- a face he’s never seen before- and their eyes fill with concern. “Sir, are you okay?”

“I…” Dr. Coomer doesn’t know how to explain it. How to tell them what it feels like when you used to believe you didn’t exist and suddenly, it feels like you do. After all seems hopeless, you wake up in what looks like paradise. An overwhelming feeling in his chest that he desperately tries to push down but it only comes rushing back up in the form of tears and a noise in his throat that he’s never made before.

_“I don’t know.”_ Coomer says honestly.

—

To his credit, Bubby does _try_ to make a list. Coomer taught him that trick a _lifetime_ ago. The pair used to be lab partners for quite some time, though honestly Bubby doesn’t know how Coomer hasn’t tried to strangle him once because of it.

Back then, he was twice as arrogant and half as cooperative. Considering Bubby can already be both of those to the point of physically exhausting people, it’s a complete mystery to Bubby _why_ Coomer had stayed for this long at all.

But… He did. For some reason. Coomer held his own when Bubby snapped at him, putting him back in his place. He kept up with him and actually contributed just as much to the work as he did. Coomer became the only person he actually 100% _respected._ The one person who stuck around and eventually, rubbed off on him. Coomer made him want to be just a little bit better of a person. 

So when Bubby woke up after ending up in the void in a place he’s never seen before- but looks suspiciously like the apartment he’s always _dreamed_ of having if he could ever leave Black Mesa- he tries to make a list. 

Key word being _tries._

Bubby doesn’t consider himself to be an emotional person by any means. Meaning the few times it does get to him, it’s something _big._ Something he can’t just stuff down and hide away like usual.

Bubby writes down a list as hastily as he can and only stops when he realizes what one of the things he wrote down was.

_He said “I love you.”_

Bubby balls the paper and tosses it in the trash. His face burns long after it’s gone. _He loves you. He loves you. He loves you._ It plays on repeat in his head and he can’t get it out. 

It doesn’t make sense. Coomer is patient and strong and caring and powerful and _maybe_ just a bit too good for Bubby. In his own opinion at least. And now, Coomer tells him that he loves him and Bubby…

Bubby can’t afford to fuck this up.

—

It takes some time to find each other. Apparently all of them woke up scattered around the city in an apartment made just for them. However, each also had a phone of some sort on them with their respective contact information already programmed inside.

Another impossible thing to put on the list. It’s getting long already and Dr. Coomer knows it’s not over yet.

They all decide to gather at Gordon’s apartment. Dr. Coomer was first to arrive and the moment he sees Gordon, he can’t help it. He flings his arms over him and pulls him into a bear hug. 

He doesn’t miss how Gordon flinches for just a moment. However Gordon quickly relaxes into his touch and that makes Coomer feel just a little bit better.

“Gordon! How are you doing?”

“Fine, I think.” Gordon replies as he pulls away. Gordon looks around his apartment. His eyes betray how guarded he is, like he’s expecting something to attack. “I don’t-...”

Gordon trails off, his eyes darting to Coomer for a moment. He can already guess what he was going to say, _“I don’t know how we’re alive.”_ but he doesn’t say it. Gordon seems to _refuse_ to say it- to acknowledge that all of this wasn’t real to Dr. Coomer despite the fact that he knows too.

Coomer almost tries to prompt it but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t just as scared to say it too.

“You got a lovely home, Gordon!” Gordon’s face visibly relaxes at the topic change. Dr. Coomer runs with it. “Mind giving me a tour?”

“Sure.” Gordon smiles, shutting the door behind him. “It’s nothing special but… It’s good. I like it here."

His voice is soft and genuine. Physically, Gordon looks like he could sleep for a week straight but as he begins to show Coomer around, he seems almost casual. More himself then he’s been in days.

At Tommy’s birthday, he spent most of his time sitting at the tables and taking a few sips of the soda Tommy had provided him. He didn’t really say much unless someone said something to him first. He wasn’t interested in playing games or eating. Dr. Coomer watched as Gordon Freeman looked more like a shell of himself than anything. And he couldn’t seem to do a thing about it.

Gordon’s a little more expressive now- he _laughs_ as Coomer asks him countless questions about the place. Seeing him joke will be enough for now.

—

Bubby leaves Freeman’s new place the moment he can.

He tells everyone he wants to check out the city which isn’t _entirely_ untrue, but it’s not why he’s so eager to escape.

Bubby sees Gordon’s lack of a right hand and feels sick inside. _He_ caused that. In the moment, he was so caught up in making Gordon _hurt_ that he never actually considered the consequences. Bubby just blamed everything on Gordon and wanted him to feel the same way he did.

A mistake Bubby hasn’t forgotten and he doubts Freeman has either. And despite it, when Gordon lets him and Tommy into his house when they arrive, he greets him like an old friend.

_“God damn it…”_ Bubby kicks into the open air as he makes his way through the city. _“Emotions are the fucking worst.”_

Bubby groans to himself and turns his gaze towards the path ahead of him. _I’ll deal with it later._ His eyes narrow. _For now, I have work to do._

Work is familiar- _safe_ even. Bubby never had a problem he couldn’t fix or distract himself with work. Right now, the city they had woken up in remained unexplored.

And if this gnawing feeling in his chest was going to continue, he was going to be out for a few hours at the _least._

—

Dr. Coomer walks back to his apartment with Tommy. Apparently his house is on the way- Bubby’s too but Bubby had left early. Something about wanting to investigate his surroundings.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a cab, Dr. Coomer?” Tommy asks, head tilting.

“No, thank you! It’s a beautiful night, why waste it?”

Dr. Coomer looks up and a sky full of stars greets him. The city as big as it is should cause _some_ light pollution but the sky is lit up like there’s none at all. Another oddity on the list. 

“Dr. Coomer?” Tommy grabs his attention again. He almost looks anxious, though Coomer doesn’t know why. “This place… What do you think of it?”

Dr. Coomer stops in his tracks. Tommy stumbles to do the same, clearly not expecting the reaction he got. Coomer’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at him. He never thought about it before but he suddenly wonders how much Tommy knows. He never seemed to have as big of a freak out as Coomer himself, nor seemed to immediately know like Gordon or-...

But while it’s possible that Tommy’s AI simply just adjusted to the new environment, telling him this was all _normal,_ Dr. Coomer honestly can’t tell if that’s the case or not. 

He thinks about telling him or trying to confirm what he knows, but Dr. Coomer remembers his own reaction. And while he highly doubts that Tommy will attack and try to wear Gordon like a puppet in order to escape from this reality, he doesn’t want to hurt him.

So Coomer elects to stay silent. For now.

“The city, you mean?” Tommy nods. “It’s positively wonderful, isn’t it?”

“Does it… Does it make you _happy?”_

The question itself is innocent enough but Coomer _knows_ there’s something more to it. Tommy is fiddling his thumbs and staring at him like his answer is the most important thing in the world. An intensity that he doesn’t see often on Tommy.

The only thing that keeps Coomer from pressing what he means is the fact that he doesn’t quite understand it. 

“It does.” Dr. Coomer assures him, even if there’s some part of him that feels otherwise. “And you?”

“Yeah, I’m doing good.” Tommy replies. The relief is clear in his smile. _Perhaps he was only concerned._ “I’m planning on taking Sunkist to the park tomorrow, I think she’ll really like some time where it’s just the two of us.”

“Excellent idea, Tommy. I’m sure you’ll have a splendid time!” 

Dr. Coomer can’t help but soak in the moment. Because for now, Tommy smiles at him, the people he knows and loves are safe, and Dr. Coomer has no pressure on him. 

_How long will it last?_ Dr. Coomer wipes the thought away. For now. 

—

Dr. Coomer doesn’t remember dialing the number in his phone but he stares down at the number as it rings. As soon as it picks up, he’s quick to put it up to his ear.

“Ah, Bubby! I wasn’t sure you’d answer!”

_“So you do realize what time it is.”_ Bubby’s voice is flat but his usual bite isn’t there. Even from over the phone, Coomer can tell that he’s making that subtle smile that he tries to hide. 

“My clock says it’s 1:17AM, so yes, I am aware!” Dr. Coomer fiddles with the hem of his shirt. It still feels strange to be out of his uniform. “I’m surprised you’re up at all. You answered fairly quickly.”

_“Yeah well, you’re up too. You’re not just calling me to lecture me about my sleeping habits so what do you want?”_

Coomer hesitates for a moment. “Are you… Busy?”

_“We’ve already established the time. What in god’s name could I be doing that’s important at one in the goddamn morning?"_

“Lots of things!” Coomer clears his throat. That’s not why he called, he shouldn’t get off track. “Would you mind if I came over?”

_“...Right- right now?”_

“If that’s alright.”

_“It’s- it’s kind of a mess right now.”_ Bubby seems to try and organize something from the other side. Coomer can’t quite tell what it is. He gives a defeated huff. _“You’re not allowed to judge me.”_

“I would never!” That's not entirely true but Bubby sounds… _Different._ More emotionally charged then he usually is. Coomer might have a rather bad habit of pointing everything out even when he shouldn’t but he makes a mental note not to subject Bubby to it. 

_“Alright. Hold on, I wrote down my address somewhere.”_

—

Bubby wasn’t kidding about there being a mess. Coomer notices it as soon as he’s let in. 

“Bubby, did you take apart your TV?”

Bubby lets out a low, “Mmm…” in response. Alarmingly, he looks almost sheepish- _afraid_ of judgement. Not like himself.

“I got bored.” Bubby shuts the door behind him and makes his way back to the living room. There’s a clear path to the couch, intentionally created so Coomer would have no problem getting there. “All this… _Sitting around.”_ His face twists. “Had to find something to do.”

He gestures vaguely to the piles of cords, plastic, other chunks of what used to be a TV, and a perfectly intact sheet of glass that rests against the wall. “Not like I watch much of the damned thing anyways.”

Dr. Coomer pokes at it before turning his attention to Bubby. “Restless?” Bubby gives a halfhearted huff in response. “There’s no shame in it. I’m feeling similarly.”

Bubby glances back at him. “Is that why you came over?”

“One of them. Not to mention, I had a _feeling_ you might be up.” That earns a chuckle from Bubby, releasing the tension from his shoulders. Coomer can’t help but feel guilty for the question he wants to ask, knowing it’ll send Bubby right back into his discomfort. “Bubby… How much do you know?”

He snorts. “You want me to create a long ass list or something? That’ll take a while.”

“That’s not what I mean… Bubby, how much do you _know?”_

His expression shifts at his tone. Eyes dart over to Coomer like he’s making sure he knows what he’s implying. “Oh. You mean like-...” 

Bubby doesn’t quite meet his eyes for a moment. He seems to give up on tearing apart and messing with the parts of the TV and sits beside Coomer instead. “You know too.” Bubby waits for further confirmation, not willing to say it first.

Coomer nods. “I do. I ended up attacking Gordon because of it and while I like to think I’ve accepted it…” He drops it, focusing on Bubby instead. “When did you find out?”

“Not sure.” Bubby frowns. “There were a fuck load of things that just _didn’t_ make sense. At some point, I pieced it together and as soon as I did... I felt _cheated._ Like my whole life had been for _nothing_ and I didn’t fucking _matter._ Benrey found out I knew, we had a long talk about it, and now Gordon doesn’t have a right hand.”

“That’s why you betrayed him?” A nod. “Hm. That makes a lot more sense.”

“Look where it got me.” 

Bubby might be a decent liar but Coomer sees right past him and notes _guilt_ in his eyes. He makes a mental note to include him in the, ‘Let’s make Gordon a new hand!’ plan. But for now, Coomer feels exhaustion start to set in.

“Bubby, would you mind if I stayed the night?”

Bubby shakes his head. “Not at all. I’m surprised you didn’t mention it sooner.”

Coomer gives him a warm smile. “Thank you, Bubby. I could use the company.”

Bubby doesn’t meet his eyes but looks softer than usual. It’s a good look on him.

—

_There’s no way out._

_Dr. Coomer runs through the empty halls of Black Mesa. No scientists, no guards, no aliens. He pushes on the doors that lead outside but they don’t budge. He types in the password over and over and over again, but the same red ‘Access Denied’ pops up and the doors remain closed._

_His heart quickens with every exit that gets crossed off the list, refusing to offer him a way out. When he tries to turn back to test an exit he’s already been to, chunks of Black Mesa disappear, and everything gets smaller._

_Dr. Coomer arrives at the last exit. The keypad once again denies him and this time, is covered in red text that says one thing and one thing only._

_**“You can’t get away from us that easily, Dr. Coomer.”** _

_There’s no way out. There’s no escape from Black Mesa. **They won’t let him go.**_

“-AROLD! _HAROLD!”_

Hands grip his arm but they’re surprisingly gentle compared to how distressed the voice is. Coomer jolts awake and is suddenly all too aware of the sweat that covers his face. 

Gasping for air like it’s the first breath he’s ever taken, Coomer struggles to focus on his surroundings. He grasps onto the first thing he touches and holds on tight. Reality wants to slip from under him and everything goes hazy, but Dr. Coomer holds onto the fabric like it’s a lifeline.

_“Fucking shit-_ just breathe, alright? Get oxygen into your brain.” A familiar voice tells him. Swears follow soon after but Coomer finds an odd comfort in them. He obeys the command, his body shuddering as he blinks up at who he’s holding onto.

Bubby. It’s Bubby. _Why does he look so concerned? I’m fine- don’t worry about me-_

Coomer opens his mouth to tell him that but his voice doesn’t work. Scratchy, incoherent noises follow instead and he’s painfully reminded of how his lungs are wheezing for air. Bubby’s eyes widen at the sounds he’s making and Coomer mentally curses himself. _You made it worse- Bubby shouldn’t worry why is he worrying Bubby are you okay Bubby stop looking at me like that it’s all going to be okay Bubby don’t worry don’t worry don’t worry-_

His thoughts become a broken record and Coomer can't seem to _breathe-_

There’s a hand on his face that wasn’t there a second ago. It cups his cheek as Bubby squints to get a good look at him. He’s still frowning- _he shouldn’t be frowning._

“Do- do you think you could breathe in sync with me?” Bubby asks gently. Coomer does his best to nod, his mind still reeling. “Follow me.”

Coomer mimics how Bubby breathes to the best of his ability and after what feels like eternity, finds it’s actually working. Bubby doesn’t stop even when Coomer feels much better, watching him carefully. Eventually, he lets out a long breath, satisfied. “That’s better…”

_“Thank-”_ he clears his throat after Bubby winces at how it sounds. “Thank you, Bubby. I… I wasn’t feeling myself.” 

“That’s the _understatement_ of the _year.”_ Bubby scoffs. He crosses his arms as he finds a place to sit on the couch. Coomer makes room for him by sitting up. The same expression is back from before- one that looks like pure anxiety. It’s bad enough seeing it so _readable-_ if Coomer can easily tell, that means it’s _bad-_ but the fact that he feels like he caused it? It twists him up inside.

“I’m- I’m quite alright, Bubby.” Coomer gives the best smile he can manage. By the looks on Bubby’s face, it’s not convincing. “Just… Just a-a simple bad dream. Nothing more.”

Bubby goes silent. A long while passes before he opens his mouth again. “Simple bad dreams don’t make people scream like that, Harold.” He says slowly. 

Coomer is ready to rebuttal but it all falls away upon hearing him say one word. “Harold.”

Bubby was expecting resistance- Coomer could see it plain as day before. But he falters. “Uh… That is your name, yes?”

“Yes…” A warm smile breaks out on his face for a moment. It fades when he’s once again reminded of his situation. 

“Stay put, I’ll get you some water-!” Bubby stands. Coomer doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he stares at his own grip tightening on Bubby’s sweater. He quickly lets go when he realizes his mistake but not quick enough. Bubby stands there with wide eyes. “Uh… Harold?”

Coomer clears his throat, giving a weak smile. “A-apologizes but… Do you think you could stay with me for a while? I- I realize this might sound ridiculous as you'll only be gone a second but I’d quite like your company right now.”

Bubby pauses for a long moment. Anxiety bubbles in Coomer’s chest, but it settles when Bubby sits back down. He searches Coomer’s eyes as he nods slightly. “Alright.” He tells him. “I can stay.”

Coomer hesitantly reaches out his hand. Bubby meets him halfway and grabs it with his own. Bubby gives him a comforting squeeze and Coomer feels his body sink further and further into the couch.

_You’re free._ Coomer reminds himself, swallowing thickly. _No more Black Mesa. No more clones. No need to fight to survive._ He wishes the thoughts were of more comfort.

Coomer holds onto Bubby like a lifeline and refuses to let go, even when he falls back asleep. Bubby doesn’t make a move to leave and ends up passing out on the couch beside him, holding on just as tightly.

—

Coomer doesn’t know if Bubby remembers what he said. However short of time they spent in there, The Void did scramble some things and Coomer did say it rather hastily once he thought their time was up.

Perhaps Bubby took it in a platonic way? Or The Void cut him off too quickly? Either way, Dr. Coomer said “I love you” to the man, fully meaning it, and wasn’t sure where to go from there.

But, he would figure it out. Because even if Bubby didn’t feel the same, he still meant a great deal to Coomer. He still wanted to be friends at the very least.

_Yes,_ Coomer would bring it up one of these days, _but that day wasn’t today._

Bubby scoffed as he tossed the envelope aside. It skidded across the table and collided with the coffee maker. “They are _unbelievable._ They’re seriously dealing us out _hush money?_ I should set that entire _facility_ ablaze for the shit we went through.”

“So you’re not going to take the money?” Coomer’s eyebrows raise, sipping on his morning coffee.

Bubby scoffs, looking away. “Of course I’m taking it- any opportunity to take _back_ from Black Mesa is one I’m taking advantage of- but they’d still deserve getting burned down.” Bubby pauses. “Wherever their facility is. I searched the city, I have no idea where we are.”

“Let's hope Black Mesa is gone for good.” Coomer gives his best attempt at a smile and takes another sip.

Bubby catches on faster than Coomer expects, squinting at his face. “....What’s wrong?”

“Hm? I don’t recall saying anything was wrong.”

“Yeah because you hate admitting anything is wrong but I’m smelling bullshit. You’re not loudly slurping your drink, something’s wrong.” Bubby crosses his arms. “Harold, _spill it.”_

“It’s- it’s nothing to worry about.” 

Coomer can try to insist all he wants but Bubby is smarter than that. He puts the pieces together and takes a stab in the dark. “You miss Black Mesa?”

Coomer goes silent. Bubby’s mouth drops. “Oh my _god,_ really?”

“It’s complicated…” Coomer sighs. 

“No fucking shit.” Bubby waits and when Coomer doesn’t speak up, he groans. “Just help me understand it because I sure as _hell_ don’t. It’s almost been a week and you’ve been hiding out in my apartment for most of it because you can’t stand not being in a occupied space _and_ because you have nightmares every other night. You finally get _out_ and suddenly, you want _back?_ That place fucked us all up!”

“It's just-...” Coomer bites his lip. His gaze drops to his mug. “It was all I knew for so long. Not Black Mesa but- but the _code,_ Bubby. There’s nothing driving me towards some unknown- _some grand ending._ It’s… It's just me.”

His face falls. “Oh.” Bubby says quietly.

Coomer nods. A humorless chuckle leaves him. “There really _is_ nothing out there now. For so long I was a- a _tutorial,_ living only to aid someone else. Now I have the chance to live for me and I don’t know where to start.”

Bubby is silent for a long while. “I wish I could give you advice that _means_ anything but unfortunately I just got into a life where I _don’t_ have anyone threatening to put me in a _tube_ for misbehaving anymore and the most I’ve done is attempt to create robots out of our appliances.” He shrugs, huffing. “I’m not in any better shape than you are. My mind says I need to work but the only significant thing I’ve done was help build Gordon’s new arm.”

“Which you did a wonderful job of by the way.”

A smirk flickers on his face at the praise. It fades as he gets a focused look in his eyes. He finally meets Coomer’s gaze. “Harold, what do you want to do? In the future- don’t think about it too hard, just _say_ it!”

“I’d like to continue researching and building.” Coomer answers immediately. “Even if we’re not with Black Mesa anymore, science of all shapes and sizes still remains in my heart.”

“Mine as well.” Bubby smiles thinly. “Maybe we can find a place- buy out a lot and use our hush money to build something _we_ want on it.”

“Gordon and Tommy could join us if they wanted!” Coomer adds. “We could do anything we wanted, not just wait for whatever Black Mesa wanted to throw at us… Bubby, we have everything at our fingertips.”

“What are we waiting for?” Bubby grinned. “There’s gotta be some hunk of junk we can rent out.”

Coomer beamed at him.

—

These days, Bubby has two types of dreams: Stress and Surreal.

Stress dreams are the ones that make him glad Coomer is sticking around. A good majority seem to involve Black Mesa and being trapped in his tube but a few others are _worse._ Bubby didn’t think anything would beat it until he dreams of Gordon getting revenge on him by returning the favor or Coomer _experimenting_ on him.

Bubby doesn’t ever wake up screaming really. Something gets caught in his throat, an instinct to hide anything that gets to him and prove to everyone that he’s _perfect._ However his body tenses and without Coomer, Bubby’s guard doesn’t come down for hours, his mind insisting that danger is around the corner. 

Surreal dreams however, leave him with a bad taste in his mouth and emotional turmoil under his skin.

_Bubby is back in Black Mesa, pounding on the glass of his tube. He hollers for someone to let him out. He fully knows that anyone who hears him is ignoring him. He’s never been much more than a tool to Black Mesa- of course they won’t help him._

_“They’re not going to come, dude.”_

_Bubby startles, snapping his gaze to the figure leaning up against the tube. His jaw drops for a moment- when did he get here?_

_Benrey lazily stares at the wide variety of buttons in front of them. He doesn’t seem too interested in finding the right one and helping Bubby escape but rather… There’s something else in his eyes. He sighs after a long while. Crossing his arms, he begins to speak again._

_“Gotta leave you here for now. Can’t let you out. But Gordon will come. He’ll make a big ruckus about it but… He’ll let you out in the end. And then you follow him, alright? You fight with him. You make up for it.”_

_“What- what the hell are you on about?” Bubby slams his fist against the glass. “Let me out!”_

_His usual piercing, red eyed gaze is hazy now. Bubby can’t tell if Benrey can actually hear him or not. “There wasn’t- wasn’t supposed to be anyone else. It was just gonna be me. And- and then I was gonna be nice and help you get a little payback but then **it** went and tried to give you the bad ending. Which isn’t fair because you- you didn’t have that before. It was just me. So I had to do something before it became permanent.”_

_Bubby opens his mouth to yell more but realization grips him like an icy, cold grip on his heart. This… This already happened. Bubby remembers this- this is a memory._

_“And it worked, didn't it? I stopped it from happening and it didn’t even cost me anything.”_

_Wait… This wasn’t a part of it before. Benrey never said that._

_Bubby grabs his head, a sharp headache breaking out in an instant and he groans. His eyes squeeze shut._

_Benrey doesn’t stop talking, even when out of sight. “Not anything I wasn’t already going to lose anyways.”_

_“What are you-” His voice dies in his throat._

_When he looks up at Benrey again, he notices an ever growing red stain on his chest. Bubby gapes at it and Benrey laughs humorlessly._

_“Heh, you know, I thought it would hurt less than this.”_

Bubby sits up in his bed, suddenly out of the dream in a blink of an eye.

His hands twitch and Bubby slides out of bed. He hates how much the dream got to him. He shouldn’t give the asshole a second thought- he doesn’t _deserve_ it. 

But even beyond the grave, Benrey is annoyingly persistent. 

—

There’s a list of contacts on Coomer’s phone that he never put on there. He never actually thought to look for anyone other than those on his favorites- the Science Team were the only people he called anyways- but Dr. Coomer decides he wants to see who else is on there.

Coomer lounges on the couch as Bubby sleeps in his own bedroom, catching up on sleep after spending all night searching for good places to set up shop. Coomer helped of course, but Bubby insisted he should rest halfway through the night. Now, he was finally doing the same.

Coomer stares at the ‘Contacts’ app on his phone and finally clicks it. He doesn’t get very far down the list before everything stops for him. He nearly drops his phone.

_Benrey._ There’s no mistaking the contact name. Hesitantly, Coomer clicks on it to view more information but stares once he does. There’s nothing on it other than his name. There’s no phone number for him to call. 

He’s just gone.

Coomer wants to say _“Good riddance”_ and be done with him but a sigh escapes him. He shuts off his phone and shakes his head to himself. He shouldn’t be giving him the time of day but Coomer’s thoughts still drift to him.

Benrey is a… Complicated subject.

He tried to kill them, yes, and Coomer would love nothing more than a little payback punch. However, Coomer supposes that he _also_ tried to kill Gordon at one point and he was still allowed a second chance. He wasn’t sure it was the same but… Coomer can’t ignore the matter of Benrey’s _code_ either.

Coomer managed to get a good look at it during Tommy’s party. The game was dead set on Benrey being the bad guy, nothing Benrey did would deviate from that path.

So it wasn’t his fault technically. Did that excuse him? Does Benrey get his record magically wiped clean? Was he just using his code as an excuse to act like a dick?

Coomer doesn’t know. He wishes he could’ve had one last conversation with him- to be able to ask him _why_ and if he ever truly cared- but he can’t. The Void might’ve let Coomer and everyone else go when a new reality was formed but it has a tight grip on Benrey. Benrey died in the end, and death doesn’t give up so easily.

The door to the bedroom opens and Bubby stands in the doorway. He leans up against the frame as Coomer snaps his head in his direction and huffs. 

“I’m going to tell you something and you can’t call me crazy.”

“I will not call you crazy!” Coomer promises.

Bubby hesitates. “...I miss the bastard sometimes.”

“Benrey?”

“Who else would I be calling ‘Bastard’?”

“You call Gordon a bastard sometimes!”

Bubby doesn’t argue that. He shakes himself and soon enough, he’s settling on the couch with Coomer. “I _shouldn’t_ but sometimes I think maybe I had something to do with why he… Y’know, started to fuck everything up. He was so apathetic about everything until I suggested getting payback on Freeman.”

Coomer quickly shakes his head. “His fate was sealed long before you did anything. Benrey was supposed to be the bad guy from the start. I think he knew that and simply accepted it. You didn’t cause anything, only got swept away in some of it.”

Bubby doesn’t meet his gaze. “There was also… Benrey’s the one who got me put back in my tube, did you know that?” Coomer shook his head. “Yeah, I woke up in there and he was just leaning against it, waiting for me. Then he went on this long rant about how this is how it's supposed to be and how he had to put me there so I didn’t get some sort of bad end too and- and honestly it was hard to follow.”

Bubby rolls his eyes. “Nothing he did ever made sense. Why couldn’t he just be _upfront_ for once?”

“Perhaps it was simply in his nature.”

“He was a simple security guard, there’s no way he was programmed to be that much of a bastard.”

“You’d be surprised.” Coomer joked. 

Bubby chuckled at that. “Either way… Bastard appears in my dreams sometimes- guess death wasn’t gonna stop him. I’d ignore it because I couldn’t care _less_ about him right now but… Something feels _unfinished.”_

“Unfortunately, he _is_ dead.” Coomer said. “So it’s always going to be unfinished.”

“Right…” Bubby rubbed his eyes, groaning. “Enough talk about bastards that don't matter anymore, let’s get some food. I can cook.”

Coomer chuckled. “No, you can’t. You set everything on fire.”

“I didn’t say I could cook _well.”_

Coomer shook his head and stood up. “I’m cooking, my treat.”

Bubby might like to prove himself but he loves Coomer’s cooking even more. _“Fine.”_ He yields, laying back as Coomer makes a beeline for the kitchen. 

Coomer laughs softly. “That’s what I thought, my dear Bubby.”

Coomer begins to clean up in the kitchen, taking whatever shouldn’t be there like finished products of their tinkering and setting it aside. He pulls out eggs from the fridge and grabs a pan. 

“Is that all?” Bubby calls over.

“You want more eggs?”

“What? Oh, no, two is fine. I mean that I realized _I_ might be done talking but you might not be.” His eyebrows raise. “I get the feeling that you’re still pushing shit down.”

“I have nothing more to say about Benrey right now.”

“...Harold, if there’s something you want to say- whatever it is- just say it.”

Coomer sighed, staring down at the eggs in the pan blankly before turning to face Bubby. He couldn't deny it. “I’m growing to love this world, Bubby. It’s a taste of free will in every sense of the word and I see how much everyone loves it- how much _you_ love it- and then I remember.”

“Remember… What exactly?”

He doesn’t want to say it. He does anyway. 

“Remember that this world was spawned into existence seemingly at the snap of a finger. And one day, I could wake up and while I was sleeping, the world disappeared as quickly as it came.”

Bubby is on his feet in a split second. “Harold, there’s no way in hell-”

“What could we _do_ about it, Bubby?” Coomer hears his own voice waver. “We couldn’t do anything then and we still can’t now.”

Bubby moves faster than he expects. He grabs Coomer’s hands, holding his attention. “...It’s _possible_ that could happen but even if it does, there’s no time to waste sitting around all day. If we’re on borrowed time, we make every second _matter.”_

Bubby noticeably hesitates. “And… Harold, do you remember Tommy’s birthday party? What you said to me by the end of it?”

Of course he knows. Coomer never stopped thinking about it. “I told you that I loved you.”

“Do you mean it? Because- because if there was _ever_ a time to back out, that’s right now.”

Coomer stares in disbelief. Bubby’s face drains for a second before Coomer carefully reaches up and touches his cheek. “I could never take it back. I meant it then and I mean it now. You’re wonderful, Bubby. Perfect in so many ways and if you need to hear it again, I’ll say it again. I love you. I have for a long time.”

“Good... Because I love you too, Harold.” Bubby says slowly. “And I’d be fucking lying if I said I wasn’t constantly thinking about what you said since you said it.”

Warmth blossoms within Coomer’s chest. “May I kiss you?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Coomer doesn’t waste another moment. His lips are against Bubby’s the second he gets the confirmation. He holds him close and doesn’t want to let go, pure joy spreading throughout his entire body. Even as they break away, their foreheads still remain pressed together. 

_“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”_ Bubby murmurs.

Coomer chuckles. “I know, I’ve wanted to since we became lab partners.”

“That…” Bubby scoffs. “I was a little _punk_ back then, you seriously wanted to kiss me? I wanted to slap me.”

Coomer hums thoughtfully. “I knew there was something special about you. And I was right, wasn’t I?”

Bubby doesn’t answer to that but the pride from his compliments makes him look like he’s glowing. “I guess…”

Coomer continues to smile at him and leans in again. Bubby meets him halfway. Coomer has never felt joy like he does when he kisses Bubby. A giddy feeling that turns back time and he’s suddenly filled with energy like he’s never had before. 

“I realize it’s early,” Coomer says when they pull apart again. “But… How would you feel about me… Sticking around here?”

Bubby rolls his eyes but there’s a smile stuck to his lips. Another funny feeling spreads through Coomer knowing that _he_ put that there. “If you think you haven’t already moved in, you’re kidding yourself. Might as well make it official.”

Coomer wraps his arms around Bubby, embracing him, and doesn’t want to let go. When Bubby does the same, Coomer gets the feeling he doesn’t either.

—

It’s the middle of the night and Bubby is awake, sitting up in his bed. To his right, Coomer sleeps soundly and is the only thing keeping him sane.

His nightmares echo in his head. 

_“Another failed prototype… And I really thought we had it this time. Oh well, back in the tube for you.”_

Bubby clutches his sheets. He knows these dreams mean nothing but his insides twist into knots. A single thought about his tube makes him feel suffocated. 

It takes Bubby a long while before he finally gives in and with a silent groan, shakes Coomer awake. _“Harold?”_

“Mmm? Yes, dear?” He blinks awake.

_Dear._ Bubby will never get used to hearing that. He feels his face start to heat up but quickly dismissed it. Now is not the time for that. “Harold, could you… Talk? About me?” He sounds awkward- he knows- but he's not sure how to phrase it. He's never _done_ this before.

It takes Coomer a moment to process the request. A sympathetic smile forms on his face and for a moment, Bubby feels _weak._ Like he shouldn’t be asking for help, like he should just be handling this on this own. He knows it’s Black Mesa in his head but… What else is he supposed to do? Or say? _What if they’re right?_

“Bubby, have I ever told you how much you never cease to amaze me?”

And in one sentence, all of that drains away just enough to where Bubby can stand his ground and not back out. _“...Go on.”_

“You’re the most intelligent person I know and you’re constantly working to improve yourself, even if you don’t need to. You have pride in yourself, as you should, but you also have the ability to know when you are in the wrong. You create with such a vigor that tells me you will one day change the world, and I want to be there with you when you do.”

Coomer pauses for a moment. “And you have the most wonderful smile I have ever seen.”

_Failure._ His mind continues to cry. It’s not gone but Bubby focuses on Coomer’s words and it seems to drown. For now, all he needs is some peace and clarity, even if it’s just for long enough to sleep. And Coomer gives it to him. 

Bubby laughs. He doesn’t know why. “Thanks. I mean it.”

“Of course.” Coomer doesn’t press on why. Bubby has a feeling he might already know but can’t find it in him to care. 

—

“Thought I might find you up here!”

Bubby turns as Coomer joins him on the roof of their apartment building. He sends him a smile before returning his gaze to the stars above. 

“I know you’re not fond of this topic but… This place is _unnatural_ in so many ways.” Bubby nods towards the stars. “The constellations- it’s like someone tried to pack every single one into the sky at the same time. The end result isn’t as big of a clusterfuck as you’d think but…” His eyes shift over to Coomer as he sits down. 

Coomer gives him a nod to continue. 

Bubby begins to read off the mental list. “The weather is always sunny and perfect, yet there’s never been an unbearably hot day. It’s only rained once but every single plant outside is lush and green. There’s no criminals or criminal activity, no police, no homeless or unemployment problem, the newspapers only report good news, and every single aspect of this world is picture perfect. Like a fucking _fairy tale,_ Harold.”

Slowly, Coomer nods once again. "I try not to think about it too often but I agree with you. This world- while an absolute _blessing,_ something isn't quite right. It's right in our faces, yet somehow hidden at the same time. It's perfect- too perfect even, which means that something or some _one_ made it that way."

“And we have no way of knowing who.” Bubby finishes. Then stifles a half laugh. “Well, we can cross _some_ people off the list. Freeman for one, Tommy for another- and since Benrey is _gone,_ him too.”

“Gordon and Benrey I can agree with for sure but… I’m not so certain about Tommy. I’m not saying he _created_ this world necessary but,” Coomer vividly remembers his conversation with Tommy, “I think he might know more than we think he does. I think he might know that this isn’t natural in one aspect or another.”

Bubby considers this. “Maybe… He did say something rather odd to me when I first saw him. He asked-”

“If you were happy?” Coomer guesses. 

Bubby’s eyebrows quirked up. “Exactly that. Wrote it off as him just checking up on us but… Tommy _is_ a strange one. You met his father- it’s possible he knows it was all a game before but I wouldn’t go so far to say he _created_ this world.”

Coomer isn’t so sure but he decides to drop the topic. His mind still sticks to Tommy however. “Is it just me or is he rather _distant_ nowadays?”

Bubby knits his eyebrows together. “He texts us every day, Harold.”

“Only about Sunkist. I’ve tried asking how he’s doing but he dodges the question often or gives vague answers.” Coomer frowns. “I don’t think he’s quite as bad as Gordon but… I do worry for Tommy.”

“Tommy has Sunkist and his father.” Bubby reminds him. “And he’s not as _self destructive_ as _Freeman._ If he needs anything, he’ll call. And if he doesn’t, _we’ll_ come for him. Same with Freeman”

Coomer nods absentmindedly. “I worry about them. And you.”

“I know.” Bubby’s face scrunches up. “It’s your most endearing and annoying trait all wrapped into one. Worry about _yourself_ for once.”

“I do!”

_“Not enough.”_ Bubby grumbles.

Coomer smiles thinly. “I’ll try to do that more often. You have to promise me you’ll make an effort to tell me when you need something as well. I know you’re not sleeping as much as you should.”

_“Mmm… Fine.”_ Bubby huffs.

“In the meantime,” Bubby looks over and notices the way a Coomer is looking at him, a twinkle in his eye, “Would you mind telling me about the stars?”

A smile stretches into a grin. “It would be my _pleasure.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what happened but as soon as I started to write some Boomer content, I went absolutely ham and this got wayyy longer than expected. They're just so GOOD. Anyways, notes!
> 
> \- Decided to add a little taste of how it went in the beginning and how Coomer and Bubby view how everyone else is doing and their respective thoughts on Benrey! There's absolutely going to be a lotttt of yelling when they find out he's alive but that's for a different chapter. I kinda figured that there's a lot of confusing surrounding, "If you didn't have a choice in the matter, would that be your fault?" mixed with, "Okay but he also tried to kill us" so lots of mixed feelings.
> 
> \- Tommy's perspective chapter is in the future but notttt yet. All I can say is Tommy knows a lot more than he lets on. To his credit, he's not exactly lying because no one asks him.
> 
> \- mmm world lore time
> 
> \- I've always had the idea that Bubby has a few self worth issues- meaning it's either 0 or 100 because he's either extremely proud of himself or doubting everything he does because he's suppose to be be perfect and he wants to be perfect but doesn't always feel that way. Just a personal HC!
> 
> \- Alternatively, Coomer being the 'Broken Tutorial AI' arc type also gives me the idea that while he has a natural instinct to cater towards everyone else, he isn't as good at getting help for himself. Luckily it pays to have someone who can read you like a book and call you out for your shit like Bubby.
> 
> \- Both of them get restless but for different things. Bubby is used to having something to do- so he immediately takes apart his TV to feel like he can actually WORK on something. Coomer feels like time should've run out and sticks around Bubby as a reminder that this is real now.
> 
> \- I am just now realizing this but the song "Are You Happy?" By Bo Burnham is REALLY fitting for this chapter
> 
> Anyways, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE COMMENTS! It makes my heart all WARM inside and really inspires me to create more because I WANT to create more for y'all so thank you so so much! Comments are always encouraged and heavily appreciated!


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